


The stars incline us

by bluegrass



Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!, Tokyo Ghoul
Genre: BAMF Kaneki Ken, Centipede Kaneki Ken, Crack Treated Seriously, Families of Choice, Family Feels, Family Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, I know what I'm doing I swear, It's not cannibalism if they're of different species, Kaneki Ken and his multitudes of personalities, Kaneki Ken is 8 People, Kaneki Ken is a Good Sky, Kuroneki | Black-haired Kaneki, Light Angst, Shironeki | White-haired Kaneki, Sky Arcobaleno Kaneki Ken, Smitten Arcobaleno, With bad eating habits
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-16
Updated: 2019-08-03
Packaged: 2019-08-24 14:30:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 17,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16641984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluegrass/pseuds/bluegrass
Summary: Mafialand regretted the day they let Vongola Ottavo meet the Sleeping King. Have they sacked the guy that agreed to it yet?(Where Kaneki Ken is the Sky Arcobaleno and his Guardians try not to tremble during meal times. Somewhere, Sawada Tsunayoshi has to physically wrestle his Cloud in a sea of paperwork to stop him from getting himself eaten.)





	1. They do not bind us

**Author's Note:**

> Please help me I am in crossover hell.  
> Work is not beta'd. Will come back later to correct mistakes.

No one in the Mafia really knew where he came from, or if he were truly human at all, but the man appeared suddenly one day, hands rested neatly across his chest in deep slumber. The employees of Mafialand spent little over a minute in visible panic when they found the body in one of the rooms in the castle, but soon calmed down under the composed charge of their supervisor.

“We are the Mafia! We’ve seen worse than dead bodies, so act like it!” The man had yelled with such strong conviction his Storm flames solidified. His men and women were quickly grouped and an ongoing investigation was on before even the Vongola caught on- and those bastards caught gossip quicker than a starving snake.

Doctors were called- Mafialand had connections to die for- and many came, except the infamous Trident Shamal himself despite the invite, but everyone knew of his detestable selectiveness when it came to his patients. Nevertheless, the colourful array of coated folks took their tests, scans and whatever it was they did and came up with nothing.

Nothing _significant_ , the doctors would argue, because they weren’t useless. (Blood tests or anything within that category were a red zone, the needle wouldn’t pierce. Not even with Storm flames coating it.) The body was perfectly healthy from what tests they could take said. Plus, unique hair colouring wasn’t uncommon in their line of work.

Sighs filled the room when they (also) couldn’t tell if the man was an Active, or if he possessed Flames at all. One thing for sure, the body’s temperature never changed no matter what they did, it was funnily constant; they’ve tried Flame exposure alongside changing the air-conditioning setting- nothing so much as a twitch.

The man didn’t sweat nor eat or drink either. They’ve tried inserting feeding tubes but his skin was as impenetrable as a Lightning hardened Active and maybe stronger. Attempting to strip the body turned out to be a terrible idea. The white haired man was impossible to lift for them to drag the clothes off of him. Cutting the cloth proved useless. He was wearing stuff that were skin tight and more durable than dragon skin. The eerie mask that was set by his side on the bed side table remained ignored.

Gender, _male_ , they wrote in their reports stained with funny liquids the Mafialand manager didn’t want to think of. Hair, _white_ ; bodily status, _healthy_. Someone asked how the body got into Mafialand in the first place, only silence filled the room and at least 2 employees were sacked from negligence of their duties. Not a lot of that _someone’s_ colleagues liked him as much after that.

It hadn’t been a pleasant time for the employees at Mafialand.

//

Like all proper bred and born Mafia folks, they had kept their guard up at first around the mysterious sleeping stranger. Watchers were arranged to guard the body, shifting every 6 hours or so. Days became weeks and it transitioned to months. The body hadn’t even the need to shit or piss. Everyone (lazy) wanted guard duty by the end of the second month.

Then different Famiglias started to catch wind of their addition through the greenest grape vine and they treated it like the newest tourist attraction in their merry theme park. Sales increased, in a sense, the higher ups considered it all pleasantly until a cult started to form. Inside the occupied room, no less.

The founding member was a relatively popular unbounded Cloud philosopher who all but fainted by the body’s feet for the entirety of 2 hours before he woke and screamed. The next thing the poor Suns in the infirmary knew, the demented Cloud ran towards the unnamed body like his life depended on it and prostrated himself in worship; he murmured soft praises and at one point of time, offered the lives of his enemies as an offering.

They escorted him out, showcasing a reluctant leniency when they hadn’t banned the Cloud for all the trouble he caused. They excused it as the underground life getting to him, it wouldn’t be the first strange reaction someone had to their kind of lifestyle.

Yet, when the first case turned two, three and the exact same incident occurred to twelve people by the end of that month alone, Mafialand denied visitors into the room where the dubbed ‘sleeping king’ slept. It was a suitable moniker, they’d decided, considering he slept so much.

Confusion peaked when Luce from the elusive Giglio Nero Famiglia pulled the shadiest of strings like a professional guitarist in order to meet Mafialand’s latest headache. It took time, but the Sky managed to roll her way through their doors. Footsteps dainty, but no less anxious and powerful walked their corridors.

“There!” the guards around her heard her declare loudly when she arrives at her destination. Luce had pulled off the orange pacifier she kept around her neck and carefully tucked it between the neck and shoulder of the white-haired man’s. “Now Vongola help us all.” She ended dramatically. People were sputtering when the lady trying for a child stalked of gracefully, looking lighter than ever as if a great weight had been lifted off her back.

The orange pacifier glowed mockingly when people started to realise that it. Just. Wouldn’t. Come. Off.

Morally questionable cults aside, powerful figureheads started pulling their own connections to catch a glimpse of the sleeping king after Luce’s show. Mafia folks gossiped worse that bored housewives at times, and they were all curious housecats to top it off.

The (in)famous Vongola Ottavo strolled in like she owned the place when her calls finally made it past. Grinning smugly, the Storm Guardian by her side sighed weakly in contrast. The rest of his fellow guardians had thrown a fit when they were denied entry, he couldn’t tell if it was a good thing when it’d only be him having to look after this troublemaking Sky of theirs. He prayed she wouldn’t cause too much trouble.

The Storm grimaced at the image of paperwork continuing to pile back at headquarters, all of them have had enough sleepless nights.

Daniela’s eyes gleamed excitedly when she finally saw the latest topic of gossip running through the Mafia. Taking a few steps forward, freezing had been the one thing she least expected to happen, falling into a familiar darkness became the second. One second was all Daniela had to brace herself against the tug at her mind, bitter Flames pulling her into the sleeping king’s domain.

Somebody screamed (Vongola’s Storm in the highest pitch) when the woman suddenly fell over after being within a certain distance from the body.

Chaos erupted in a flurry of colours. One of the accompanying employee felt cold swear run down his spine. It was happening again- why didn’t anybody ever read the sign?! And now, one of the most powerful Famiglia in the Mafia was going to be a cult member of an unexplained half-dead man residing on _neutral_ grounds!

//

Daniela has never experienced drowning, but she thinks this is the closest she was going to get to it.

Her lungs were burning with oxygen deprivation as her brained whirled to think and get yourself out! A certain wetness touched her skin, the water felt cold. Yet, any form of escape from her current situation proved more than just difficult because she couldn’t see nor hear, or even feel herself gargling for heaven’s sake.

Sensory deprivation caked on top of drowning did not sound like the most dignified way to go, but Daniela didn’t plan on giving up anytime soon. The proclaimed Goddess within her Famiglia thrashed and jerked her arms whenever she could. Ignoring the sharp pierce of cold that seeped through her bones. For a while, the black-haired lady had forgotten that the reason she was even there in the first place was due to a virtual pull of her soul.

Colours seemed to bleed into her world after what felt like more than a few dreadful hours. Daniela found herself in the middle of a homely looking café, signboard up behind the counter in numerous choices of coffee. She looked around her surroundings, appreciating the smooth colours of the wooden floor and the strong scent of coffee throughout the place.

Her fingers smoothed over the round edges of the tables and chairs in the café. Daniela had tried to exit through the door and windows but it was to no effect. It somewhat comforted her to know that the place was at least solid and real inside. Beyond the windows of wherever she was, had nothing but a wide expanse of sea.

Beyond the crossed parting at one end of the café, Daniela took a seat after taking up one of the novels placed on the counter. It was in Japanese, but Daniela had learnt the language like all her ancestors did before her and proceeded unhindered. She had been through 3 pages when a soft voice shook her out of her book.

“it’s a good book, isn’t it? The Black Goat’s Egg.” Daniela couldn’t help but think that the title sounded beautiful on his tongue. He said it reverently for one, _gently_ , the Vongola head couldn’t help but think. “Written by Takatsuki Sen. I don’t know if she exists here, but she was my favourite author.”

She took in the man’s appearance. He looked young- college age- with strands of soft charcoal hair falling over one of his eyes that was covered by an eyepatch. Wearing a waiter’s uniform, Daniela couldn’t remember when the two newly made cups of steaming coffee was placed on the table.

“Who are you?” The woman asked sceptically.

“Kaneki Ken. Or, Ken Kaneki, if what the people said before was true.” Ken said, grey eyes bright and kind. Something about him strongly reminded the woman about innocence and softness. An inherent urge to protect him surged. Who was this guy?

Daniela blinked once, “About what?” she asked, fingers tracing the mouth of the cup. “That we’re currently in Italy!” Ken said excitedly. “I’ve never been to Italy before.”

“Are you the one who brought me here? Take me back to Mafialand,” The lady crossed her arms, “and I need to know about the relationship you have with the sleeping king.”

Ken scratched his cheek, tucking his chin in and smiling bashfully. “U-um, yes… it was me that brought you to Anteiku, but it wasn’t on purpose. I swear!” He started waving his hands around. “I was- I just wanted some company and the others weren’t willing to wake up yet so…” He blushed, likely embarrassed. “A-and, could you tell me more about this ‘sleeping king’ please? I can’t let you go until certain conditions are met, so we might as well talk.”

Anteiku was probably the name of the café. Daniela came out with more questions than before after Ken’s appearance. In a sense, she’d gotten one answer which was progress; _Anteiku_ \- the place where the scent of coffee was strong and the fond nostalgia lingering stronger. Not to mention, during one of the hours she’d spent here, Daniela felt like an intruder in a sacred space.

Yet, nothing more on the specifics of _why_ she was here or _who_ were the ‘they’ this Ken had mentioned. In addition to that, what were the conditions needed to get out of here? Daniela could feel her temper rising, she ended up taking a sip of that coffee. It tasted wonderful.

“The sleeping king is a man that is said to have appeared in Mafialand one fine day and never left. Or couldn’t for that matter. Reports have told me that he was always asleep, never eating nor drinking. The toilet, unnecessary. Nobody knows if he’s an Active either.” Daniela sighed. “I only came to visit the latest talk among the Mafia. I didn’t expect to be taken… here.”

Giving a sheepish chuckle, Ken Kaneki seemed to sip his drink in a way that told Daniela he was hiding something. She lifted a sharp brow, questioning without vocalising. “A-ah…” He said unintelligently afterwards. “I’m really sorry for the trouble we’ve caused, but I have to leave our body in your care for the time being. Thank you for the trouble.” Ken bowed his head.

The Ottavo hid her shock at the admission (the similarities in appearance were limited, inside-out). “It’s not me taking care of it, brat. Mafialand has your body, and they’re neutral territory. I literally cannot do anything to your body.”

“Eh?!” Came a shocked sputter. Ken ruffled his hair, turning up the effects of his aura _innocence-softness- **protect**_ around him. “What am I going to say to the others now?” She heard him mumble to himself, face fixed into a wry expression.

“Who exactly are they? And you said ‘we’ earlier on. Are they more of you in here?”

Ken snapped his focus back to Daniela, hair flopping; it didn’t escape Daniela’s notice that he started playing with the string of his eyepatch in habit. “Yes.” The young male smiled faintly. “But you won’t see them, not now at least, if ever. The others can be pretty picky about who they let in their territories.”

Registering the newest information, “Territories?” the woman repeated.

Nodding quickly, “Yeah! I mean, Haise lives in this really big house; and Centipede lives in this really dark place that smells a lot like blood. Shiro’s chained up to his chair most of the time- I really don’t understand why- oh.” Ken paused mid-way. “I don’t think I’m supposed to be telling you all this.” He said sullenly.

“It’s fine.”

Rubbing the back of his head, Ken started his back on his cup, eyes cast downwards. “You feel very warm, Daniela-san.” _Sky influence_ , came immediately to her mind. The woman forcefully fought the urge to hug the male down. “It’s also been very lonely around here. Ever since those people stopped coming in, it became really hard to forget what it’s like to be lonely again.”

Gently entwining her fingers, Daniela made sure to lean forward slowly as to not startle the kicked looking puppy donned in human skin. “I meant to ask,” She started. Face pinched into a barely noticeable frown, “But what’s your Flame type?”

Ken tilted his head. Clearly, he didn’t look as if he understood what she had said. “Flames? What are those?”

“A manifestation of your Dying Will.” Daniela explained patiently. Tipping out what she remembered from her tutors as a young girl. Ken was quick to catch on, showcasing a type of sharpness she hadn’t caught before. Taking a glance at the small pile of books at the counter, she concluded that he was well-read, too.

Humming, “I see.” The male said. He closes his eyes then, and brought up a dainty hand. Orange Flames danced on his palms, mischievous and warm and everything that made up a Sky. Daniela pursed her lips into a tight line and stopped herself before she did something stupid like gasp ‘you’re a Sky!’ because _obviously, he was._

 _A Sky_ , the lady thought to herself as Ken wiggled his fingers curiously. _And a very powerful one at that_. _Stronger than my own._

Suddenly, the teen (because he couldn’t possibly be older than 18) stormy grey eyes widened comically. “Ah!” He startled, dissipating the flame. Focusign his attention back to the Vongola, “Time’s up, Daniela-san. I’m really grateful for you taking the time to talk to me. Come visit more often, yeah?” Ken practically _chirped_.

Nothing in the world could possibly explain the number of new questions that came up at the front of Daniela’s mind when he told her so. “No- wait- _what_ \- I’ll be back!” she gushingly blurted, a tug at her very soul whirling Daniela back into her real body.

Throughout all of Daniela’s years as a Sky, waking up to the concerned face of her Elements had never made her feel so irritated. Daniela immediately pushed herself off the edge of the bed, legs wobbling slightly. Ignoring the shouts behind her, the Ottavo practically stormed her way through the number of bodies that dropped steadily underneath her ire. “Let me see that little brat!” Daniela yelled, accidently elbowing her Rain in the guts as she caught hold of her.

A very familiar employee groaned; ‘The Vongola Ottavo has been converted!’

//

Kaneki was more than just happy when Daniela kept to her word and came back over and over again to talk with him. What once were suspicious and cynical looks soon transformed into something akin to warm endearment when Kaneki caught her staring. He had been word vomiting about one of his favourite books, Daniela looked at him now as though she found a long-lost son.

Not to forget, her open mention at him being cuter than even her present ones. It made something in Kaneki flutter. His mother had been- he wouldn’t think about it, not now.

Nevertheless, the latest of Daniela’s drop-by made Kaneki smile earnestly. The woman’s erratic but assured visits eased the ache of being ripped away from his friends and family by choice. Jerking away from the cup of coffee he’d been drinking, Kaneki decided that he didn’t really want to think about that either.

The Ghoul allowed his Kagune to flair and stretch for a bit. His newest friend had just left- after her 12th visit now. It made Kaneki’s Rinkaku twirl about excitedly at the memory of when Daniela promised to bring along a good friend of hers the next time they met up. His name was Renato Sinclair, if Kaneki weren’t mistaken; the woman said he absolutely had to meet him.

Ah, they needed to wake up soon. Centipede was the least rational in his hunger.


	2. I will love the light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "... for it shows me the way, yet I will endure the darkness because it shows me the stars." - Og Mandino

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TYSM for all the positive reviews for this story. Enjoy and comment if you liked it!

People’s eyes wandered over to the tall figure making his way skilfully through the crowd, stopping at the stripe guided queue starting to form. The man had raven hair and two distinctively curly sideburns which caused a few eyes to widen curiously, but that hadn’t been the point.

Beneath his fedora, the man wearing a suit in a weather where human bodies could _liquefy_ was amazingly good looking with very tempting assets. A fair-haired head had been bowed low, sweat beading down the pervert’s face. Grabby, impolite hands reached out when the relatively organised like passengers boarded the short train to the airport, packed as tight as sardines.

“Keep your fucking hands off, hmm?” Onyx eyes darkly glared down at the well-deservingly unfortunate pervert’s face. With a foreboding smirk, Renato Sinclair’s own pair of gloved hands grabbed the scum by the wrist. Hard.

It was alarming for the pervert; he’d thought a specimen as fine as his target would have too high of a pride to voice his predicament; clearly, he hadn’t thought this incident through.

Suddenly appearing behind the stocky man’s panicked figure, Renato easily twisted the fair-haired person’s arms behind him and slammed the fucker against the window of the train. A suspiciously bright green gun suddenly aimed itself at the weaker man’s side.

Frantically whimpered apologies flooded the confined space of the transport. The hitman relished in the expression and scent of pure fear wafting off his molester. Unfortunately, there wasn’t enough space nor privacy to give a well-earned lesson to the swine.

Renato narrowed his eyes dangerously; if the makings of a scene around them were anything to go by, something quick would have to do.

Besides, people were starting to look and much as Renato loved the attention, he was in no mood to cause as much chaos today. Searing the scum’s shirt with a heated stamp Leon conveniently transformed into, blood was shed that day with bubbling blisters and an echoing crack off someone’s bones.

Whoever crippled the reported pervert by making sure his bones cut through his skin and muscle like plant shoots growing from its soil oil left far too quickly even before the cops could get further details.

It’d been as interesting case, nonetheless. The damage inflicted was by the supposed victim. Cameras were looked into, but the top of an orange banded fedora was all they could find in the end.

Hidden in Mist flames, the man who wore a checker mask disappeared in a blink.

//

Back at Anteiku, Kaneki sighed as Kawahira failed to appear once more in spite of his invitation for some coffee. Clogs were turning, the Ghoul instinctively knew. Absently playing with his eyepatch, “I am the Gateway,” Kaneki whispered to himself, voice trembling subtly.

It was now his job to filter out the greys in this world’s clouded future. He would be the beginning of everything once more; the start for an end in need of piecing together. The sky flashed crimson briefly. Kaneki contemplated rereading one of his favourite books for the nth time.

Red skies signified the presence of their leader- the conclusion in the tragedy known as Kaneki Ken.

King sat regally atop one of the scarlet concrete of one of his tori gates, swinging his feet back and forth, a serene expression on his face. Kaneki glanced out of the window the moment the sky abandoned its bright blue tint, meeting King’s eyes when he turned his snowy head at the same time.

They waved at each other, both their respective bodies relaxing at the soothing sound of rocking waves. “Would it still hurt? After all we’ve been through?” Kaneki asked absently the man outside (neither distance not dimension mattered here, not when they were all connected so intimately). The King simply listened, his eyes dropping to the darkening sea.

The proof of their Sin.

_Only time would tell._

//

Renato had boarded his flight after a successful hit, pretending fatigue wasn’t a word in his book. The seat he’d taken was on the farther back of Vongola’s private plane, a tight corner that was suitably dark enough to give him the illusion of privacy.

The hitman wasn’t ignorant of his rising status in the Mafia. On some days, he took pride in it. Today, however, Renato felt a bone-scraping exhaustion. It brought up a startling wish in him to retire. During his prime, no less. Renato shielded his eyes with a gloved hand, sighing quietly.

He had killed over 10 people on a mission given because of his shining resume; one of them had looked no older than the age **not-adults** normally got out of college.

It shouldn’t bother him, not after all that he’s done and seen, but it did. Renato may’ve been very good at his job, but he wasn’t as heartless as his colleagues normally assumed. _Not yet._ The hitman grimaced.

(Then there was the _filth_ that dared to try touching him.)

Taking a sip of the offered- and then personally tested- wine, Renato glanced out the window and absentmindedly watched the blur of colours running past. There was just _something_ about taking the life of a pre-adult that got to him.

( _‘He was so young,’_ murmured Renato back at his quarters after the deed was done. Leon was perched on his shoulder, a careful, comforting lick at his cheek that Renato didn’t (will never) forget to say thank you to.)

Taking a short vacation with Daniela would do some good for him, a rational part of Renato advised. Plus, as a closet workaholic, it was within the hitman’s policy to force his brain into thinking he was only humouring his long-time friend.

Petty pride aside, it was never hard to admit that Daniela was _good_ in the ways that counted; she would be a breath of fresh air for Renato’s retreating mental health that showed with his ever shortening temper (a trait Renato acknowledged with resignation. Arrogance and ignorance were two different things).

The woman had protected and sheltered Renato many times during the war even when she didn’t have to. She taught him the ins and outs that he missed growing up in the lifestyle. To put it shortly, Daniela’s help had been invaluable.

Renato fondly remembered the time Daniela smacked him upside on the head and told him it didn’t matter if he had nothing to give her now. He’d be great- the _greatest_ , she said confidently, and to the young, impressionable and emotionally instable mind that was a 16-year-old slum-rat turned hitman, it had been everything.

Backtracking the memory lane, Renato decided he was going to get the head-strong lady some quality coffee beans before he left for Mafialand. It was the least he could do after avoiding her calls for a while now, promising 3 favours for her heir notwithstanding. The things he did, the man sighed.

Plus, the visitation should be able to answer some questions Renato’s been keeping in his pocket for a while now.

It had been a cause of mild concern when the information brokers around his area whispered to one another in shushed voices about the Vongola Ottavo changing religion or something of the like- _converting_ , they’d said, if Renato was being specific.

The open gossip piqued quite a few interests, and not only Renato’s own. Daniela was religious? In this God-forsaken hell hole of a society?

It wasn’t common knowledge, but Renato took pride for having known the lady for at least a decade. It had been him who attended most of the fanciful parties she’s held to verbally slay a Famiglia or two. It was also him to have also known first hand of the temperamental, emotional wreck of a dragon she became while heavily pregnant with her first born.

Daniela husband was a pathetic excuse of a man whose only job well done was impregnating the Vongola Ottavo, giving her an heir to love and raise.

The first one to have held the orange blanketed Timoteo wasn’t the baby’s father, but _Renato_ for heaven’s sake.

Unless the world itself (with the driest sense of humour) wanted to hint at Renato for an earlier retirement in the most roundabout way, how could he have not noticed something as important as her Faith?

To add salt to the wound, a drunk Renato alone could’ve broken down a minimum of 3 Gates of Hell per floor in any kind of religion. (Save for the special floor reserved for child and animal abusers, killers and rapists of any kind) God forbid Daniela’s offense to his adultery days.

The hitman only left Italy for a short 4 months and now his countrymen (arguably Renato as well) have gone arguably half insane with curiosity; gossiping around about a religious Vongola and a cult that’s been getting relatively popular nowadays. Last Renato remembered, Vongola themselves had been the _only_ cult.

The smartly dressed man tipped down his trademark fedora, if the sources weren’t playing a prank on him, something about a male version of Sleeping Beauty too. Not to mention the forced resignation of at least one board member and 2 normal employees from Mafialand.

How strange. Mafialand hasn’t had such a purge since the start of the second world war. The low numbers a testament to how strictly the employees and board members (selected through capability) took their responsibilities and political stance.

What was going on in Italy’s Underground really?

//

Daniela slapped Renato pretty when the man brought up the thing about the cult she seemingly joined after having a seizure befitting her age. Renato didn’t phrase it that way, of course, his self-preservation instincts were stronger than that.

Stepping into the room, the hitman’s Sun flames kicked up a momentary fuss before they settled. Nobody noticed as the fight was internal, but Renato suddenly felt more on edge than he ever did before. He hasn’t lost control on his flames ever since his first kill.

Some voodoo was going on behind the scenes. Renato could smell it. The man made a mental note to check up on some of his more reliable information brokers in the future.

Observing the proudly introduced Ken Kaneki, Renato didn’t know why Daniela spoke about the body as if it could hear them _(“Be polite, Renato. Say hello.”)_ ; something churned in his stomach when she acted as if it would somehow find a way to rise from the coffined bedding to shake hands with Renato or the like.

But Ken Kaneki was a real beauty, Renato would admit. The still figure reminded Renato of a Japanese doll he’d seen during a hit in Japan. All porcelain beauty and plush lips.

The sleeping king was a sight to behold even as the air around him grew tenser when the two of them got closer. Coating his body in a subtle layer of Flames, the tug that Daniela spoke off became more obvious, but no less sneaky.

“You’ll be fine, Renato. Just let Kaneki pull you in. He told me to tell you sorry in advance for the discomfort when you reach the edge of the world. His mindscape, mind you.” A glint in the Vongola head’s eyes told Renato that there was a lie through omission stuffed somewhere in her words. Better yet, Daniela _knew_ he knew.

“Old fox.” Renato grinned fondly, fedora pulled down to cover his eyes. The older woman put out her hand with a kind smile on her face, “Accompany the old **lady** , would you?”

He took her offered hand easily; the same way he grasped it all those years ago.

The world spun, but Renato Sinclair did not arrive at the café Daniela spoke so fondly about. He came upon a child instead. Looking like the body outside, but with darker hair and sorrowful eyes like his own.

The child was holding the gloved hand of a taller figure hidden in the shadows. Looking around, Renato noticed himself in a large hall with black and white checker floors that stretched on forever.

“He’s here, nii-sama.” The young boy stated softly in Japanese. Cheeks fluffed with baby fat that looked out of place on his skinny body. “Will the Sun brighten up our world soon?”

The lights in the room flickered in mocking response to the question. Renato didn’t need to think before a forest of Sun flames drew protectively around him. Yet for some strange reason, their surroundings didn’t look any brighter, remaining dim like the hospital corridors in horror flicks. A scent of metal and rust permeated the air.

“I cannot say, but it would seem as though Kaneki knows more than he’s been letting on. We’ll know why the allowance in our territory shortly, no? I’ll makes sure of it.” said a smooth, timbre voice coming from the other unknown variable. For some reason, it felt disappointingly anticlimactic when he stepped out from the trick of light hiding his face.

Renato didn’t need to be a genius to realise that the child and young man looked eerily alike. The latter was cloaked in all black, wearing a pair of round, golden framed glasses; the former dressed brightly in comparison. Wearing in a pair of dress shorts and a white formal shirt with long sleeves, dark straps over his shoulders; a thin and long black ribbon tied around his folded collar.

The pair looked like a picture right out of a gothic fantasy, not that Renato would know.   

Mood sombre, Renato forced a nonchalant smirk. “My date was meant to be with one Ken Kaneki, gentlemen. Seeing as you’re both familiar with the name, I’d greatly appreciate it if you brought me to the right destination before it gets too late out.”

They looked at each other, expression blank. Hands held together still. “You can call me Ken.” The younger one said, tone light and pure. A shame considering his expressionless face. “My brother prefers to go by Reaper in memory of someone precious to us, but we are still Kaneki Ken. What about that date?”

 _Fuck_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbeta'd. Will return to fix mistakes when able.


	3. I used to cover my windows in heavy curtains,

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “... never drawn. Now I danced in the sunlight on my hardwood floors.”  
> ― Kimberly Novosel, Loved

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy.

Daniela was found seated across 'I want you to call me Kaneki.' Ken with her finger entwined, elbows on the table while her teeth grinded with worry. Heart fluttering, the woman felt sorely tempted to try another attempt at breaking out the window and finding her honorary godson herself.

She would've done so, truly, if she hadn't already known the pointlessness of the act even without Kaneki telling her in slight amusement. Daniela honestly didn't remember raising her precious child to grow up to be such an imp.

('You've only known the shit for a month,' Ricardo grumbled from the ring. Daniela could practically  _hear_  his eyeballs roll to back of his skull. Wisely, the woman ignored his unwanted comments.)

The young man in question looked as calm as ever, taking a cup of freshly brewed coffee to his lips as he smiled softly, froth sticking to the top edge of his mouth. Daniela already did the whole interrogation thing on the whereabouts of Renato Sinclair and much to her chagrin, only to have received word about the most basic information.

Like how her godson was technically safe and unlikely to die without her presence to back up the unfortunate soul. Kaneki could be one stubborn bastard if his heart was in it.

The Ghoul didn't know why he assumed otherwise, but the information made the lady understandably upset. Kaneki spent a decent fix of time explaining why Renato wasn't here with them having tea, cringing slightly when Daniela threatened to throw her cup across the room.

"Renato-san has gone to see the others." Kaneki said, ever so cryptic. "He is needed there, but the others won't hurt him. I promise."

Daniela only pursed her lips and nodded jerkily. Disappointment filling her eyes like the clouds of their mindscape- gently and gradually, diffusing across the sky before a person even realised no strips of blue were plastered above anymore.

Kaneki resisted the urge to fidget in his seat. "Tell me more," he heard her say when the silence grew heavy.

The Ghoul wasn't one to deny his precious people, so he obliged the woman's concerned curiosity with what he could afford to tell. King's warning prickled at the back of his mind, their eldest would be watching.

Anteiku shivered underneath his exasperation; it made Daniela raise a brow which Kaneki could only laugh sheepishly in response, hand rubbing the back of his head.

"When we came here, we were given a mission." He started. Daniela was immediately hooked, her ponytail spreading with the way her head jerked with surprised. "I can't tell you much, but a man in a checker mask approached us one day in a dream and told us to save the world."

Fiddling with the string of his eyepatch once more, Kaneki looked up from where his gaze had dropped while recounting the story. Vongola Ottavo looked intrigued, but no recognition or disbelief graced her eyes from his words yet.

She believed him.

Kaneki felt encouraged to continue. "We were informed beforehand to accept a 'valuable' gift when we got here. We got the pacifier, but I couldn't bring in the person who sent it for some reason. Either way, none of us know what the thing does except giving us a heart burn."

Sweating slightly, he ignored the pressure of King's Authority that begun to steadily press down on him.  **Careful**  Kaneki heard King say then, using a voice designed to fall deaf on foreign ears.

"You said you were a gateway once. Explain." The woman commanded after a moment of speculative silence.  _The Giglio Nero Famiglia was involved? I'll need to investigate this further once I get back._

(In a way, Daniela couldn't really bring herself to feel surprised.

Everyone knew about the pacifier Luce wore around her neck; the Famiglia's knack for borderline magical voodoo was practically trademark too. Add the two together, and you have the highly plausible key in unlocking Kaneki's mysterious appearance in Italy.)

Sighing, the Ghoul relented with puffed cheeks. Well, it wasn't like he himself knew much anyway. "My job is to oversee the people that come and go from here. I'm airport security basically.

I have the right to reject or accept entry and exit for whoever that wants to enter. I could also pull them in if I wanted, but then the person would have to be within a certain distance and have flames too. The person that gave us the pacifier being the only exception of course."

"Has it always been like this?" Daniela asked.

Kaneki shook his head, "No. Honestly, even I don't know much about our purpose here." He huffed cutely, lips pouting. "That's why I had to keep pulling in all those people from Mafialand. Getting information from the outside is a lot easier that way considering our body cannot move at the moment."

Daniela stood from her chair, its legs dragging on the floor loudly. She paced around the café with practiced quiet footsteps, gazing out the window with a strange look. "Tell me, Kaneki, who are the 'we' and 'our'?"

"D-Daniela-san…" the Ghoul stuttered out. The woman gave him a sharp look. "You know I can't tell you much." he finished quickly.

"You left someone I find myself rather fond of with one of your roommates. I think I deserve an explanation. As brief as it may be."

Without warning, the young man grunted painfully, dropping on the floor as he curled up into a defensive ball. Daniela found herself kneeling beside him, worry etched on her face. Kaneki had his fist clutching at his chest as if he couldn't breathe.

Daniela watched the sweat dribble down his temples as Kaneki panted and struggled to take in air.

"I-I'm sorry, Daniela-san." The grey-eyed student (because he'd told her about his university days. One that Kaneki understood she'd never find no matter how much she looked.) gasped. "I cannot tell you more. Our King thinks the best for us, so it'd only be counter-productive if I said anything more."

Kaneki shielded a cough with a fist.

"A-and… as you can see, I am  _physically_   _incapable_  of talking about 'us'. Another day, maybe." Kaneki rubbed his chin absently.

Daniela ran a comforting hand down his back, tracing soothing circles ever so often. She helped him up as he tried to stand, her expression resigned and a little guilty. She didn't apologise, however.

A heavy crackle boomed from the outside, two heads immediately snapped towards it. Out of the blue, the darkening sky was pregnant with inky clouds flashing with an alarmingly bright purple outline with every streak of lightning that streamed into the sea.

Kaneki was visibly distressed. His fingers started trembling before he chewed on his lips and forced Daniela back on her knees, pushing her underneath the table. "Please stay down." the young man said steadily with convincing confidence, each word belying the nervous trembles in his hands.

"Centipede doesn't normally come down here." Kaneki tucked his head in curiously despite the butterflies in his stomach; Daniela doesn't think Kaneki noticed it, but the Ghoul started talking to himself at a volume even Daniela struggled to hear.

"-pose, unless Shiro gets upset and if he's upset it means…!"

Grey eyes widened in realisation. Dropping an apology, Kaneki suddenly vanished before Daniela's eyes, leaving her alone with the mad world outside.

Renato could hardly believe it. The pair of siblings had the gall to chain and cuff him to a chair on the first date no less. It did his pride no good when the chair was also one that was barely holding together with its creaky metallic screws and rusted legs.

Snarling to himself, Renato accidentally recalled the days of helplessness buried underneath hills of bodies watered with blood. Shaking his head, Renato grunted coarsely. He wasn't  _there_  anymore, no point getting pissed about it.

Nevertheless, the greatest hitman in the making absolutely despised having his freedom taken away. It made him feel smaller even if he knew no form of restriction would be able to keep him down for long.

Yet, there was something about the seat he sat on that felt off, somehow.

Trusting his instincts as they've served him well for years, Renato forced his body to relax. If what Daniela told him was true, there would be no point in struggling because in the mindscape of a powerful Sky, Elements like Renato could only bend until they've found an exploitable opening.

Speaking of which, Renato seemed to have to put in twice the effort in remaining calm, more so than usual. The boy called Ken wouldn't stop hugging his leg like a koala. Narrowing his dark eyes, the hitman tried his hand in flaring his Sun flames to shoo away the little pest. It didn't work.

Ken proceeded to rub his small face on the fabric of Renato's pants, brother forgotten at the side.

"What are you doing, silly thing?" Renato asked mildly exasperated.

"You smell very nice." Came the somehow hungry(?) response. The hitman sweat dropped, what did  _that_  mean?

Nothing made sense ever since he stepped into Mafialand's room. First, it was his Flames going out of control; next, he couldn't meet Daniela's new adopted son apparent due to some technical difficulties and now, there was a young boy rubbing himself all over Renato.

Insanity.

Renato couldn't help but jerk up a kick when Ken started nibbling on him. The urge to curse was strong, but it shouldn't be the weirdest thing the hitman had experienced yet. The act was climbing quickly up the list, though.

Pushing up his glasses, "Stop it, Ken. That's not very polite." Reaper said, tone stern. The boy did so immediately. "I understand the need to feed, but the King has yet to say."

"But King nii-sama is the champion of going on strike! Second to Kaneki nii-chan." Ken whined. Renato cringed a bit when the boy's blank expression fell, revealing a child barely older than 9. He tried to not think how Ken's cheeks looked like little dumplings when he puffed them up.

Renato couldn't comprehend why seeing the young boy act his age (playful, endearingly spoilt) made something in his stomach churn.

"We'll never wake up at this rate." The boy finished sulkily.

"Point taken," the older man said genially, tone bemused. "But our troubles will come to light, Ken. See, your precious Kaneki nii-chan is right there."

On cue, Renato saw a another version of the pair siblings walking towards them. Face full of youth, untouched by the darkness his younger and older counterpart wore like a second skin.

Kaneki's cheap pair of dress echoed in elegant clicks over the tiled marble floor. Ken ran over like an excited puppy, holding his arms wide while shouting "Kaneki-nii! Kaneki-nii! You're here!" Renato couldn't see the gleeful smile, but he heard it.

Eyes expressive even through the eyepatch, Kaneki caught the tackle with a practiced "Oof.". Hugging back the smaller boy, the older male then lifted him up, allowing Ken sat on the crook of Kaneki's arm with his own pair of arms wrapped around the older teen's neck. "Ken!" The young man greeted cheerfully. "Reaper." He nodded towards the other with a smile.

"Now, you two, I don't think I have to really say why you can't go stealing Shiro's chair without asking. He's at Anteiku now, y'know, King's dealing with him now and he's  _mad_." Kaneki whispered the last part with a tone of conspiracy, making Ken giggle.

Reaper chuckled darkly. "His highness himself? Or did you mean Shiro?"

"Both, I'd say. Everyone knows how touchy Shiro gets with his property, Reaper. It wasn't wise to swipe it off his field. Centipede's gonna be kicking up a fuss for the next few days too."

Reaper sighed, combing through his hair. "It wouldn't have been polite if we let our guest remain standing. Ken thought so too."

"Shrugging is rude, nii-sama. But yeah! It would've been real sad if we didn't let the Sun rest. Anyway, I'm hungry, Kaneki-nii. When are we going to go hunting?"

The semi-formally dressed male laughed. "Soon." he said, giving Reaper a warm look at the same time. Reaper nodded, the frame of his glasses gleaming faintly. "Renato's here for that reason, y'know. He'll be the one to wake our body up."

The Sun widened his eyes. He what?

"I don't remember agreeing to this." The hitman finally spoke after a trio of indiscernible stares faced his way. Kaneki laughed, a sound comparable to ringing bells. He set Ken down and placed a gentle hand to pat the soft head of dark hair. "I don't think the little one here would take well to the rejection." He said lightly.

The child was starting to have stars in in his eyes. An entire galaxy of hope and anticipation just waiting to swallow Renato up. Renato steeled himself, internally frowning. He didn't know the kid, no reason to feel guilty.

Or so he told himself. Guilt weighed like an anchor, putting suffocating pressure in the pits of his stomach. Curse those set of doe eyes.

Suddenly free from his confines, the hitman eyed all of them suspiciously. Even attempting to understand their actions felt pointless. Why was he released? Where had that chair gone to? Perhaps from now on, he'd take on those mind-reading lessons more seriously. The Italian man thought to himself.

Nevertheless, Renato crossed his arms over his chest, looking at the kid straight in the eyes. "Look, bambino, I get that you need help. But, my Flames are more… specialised. I could potentially kill you, or myself, if any accidents happened."

Let's not even talk about the fact the hitman didn't even know what was wrong with the Kaneki Ken up outside. Went the silent complaint.

Little Ken's eyes watered, shining like unpolished diamonds. His lips trembled as his nose sniffled and dusted pink. "You… might die?" He ran towards Renato, pulling at the seams of his suit. The man nodded, confused at the drastic reaction to his hypothetical death.

"Then it's fine." Ken blurted, making Reaper's eyes widen, golden framed glasses dropping from the bridge his nose slightly. Kaneki look frustratingly understanding and approving. The boy brought up his free hand to stifle a hiccup, grip on the Sun's suit tightening where Renato simply starred, "Kaa-san always said it was better to hurt than hurt others."

Something inside Renato shattered. There hadn't been enough time to tell himself that it wasn't his heart. That the low thrum of vibrating heat was not the fragile lines of a bond starting to form- strings reaching out because this Sky would not hurt him- would not force him into a Bond or life he didn't want. Ken is  _RENATO'SHISHIS **PLEASE-**_

The floor beneath them was crumbling before Renato could comprehend the longing and possessiveness.  _Ken!_  The hitman's brain startled immediately. Renato's focus suddenly sharpened, sensitivity going into an overdrive.

A vicious snarl was practically jumping out of his throat when Renato quickly pressed Ken close to him. Capturing the small, too-skinny body into his embrace. Sun Flames crooning as it prepared them for the worst. It took all of 5 seconds to realise that the world had stilled, appearing stuck in time. Kaneki was smiling.

"It has been days, our Sun. I hope that when you wake, you will find a way to save us." He placed a gentle hand on Renato's cheek. Reaper was standing by the youth's side. "Perhaps it is time for a change, no?" the darkly dressed man pushed up his glasses. "We've never really asked to be saved before."

Ken was hugging Renato's middle all the while, warm liquid gems- priceless, precious- still running down his cheeks. "But you don't have to, Ren-nii. I'd hate for you to get hurt because of us. We aren't worth it."

Renato's hold on him tightened. "No." He shook his head slowly. The hitman knelt down to reach Ken's eye level. His knew Sky. "I will find a way. You will never hurt me, bambino."

"It's time. Come." Kaneki murmured absently, seemingly seeing something they couldn't. Ken sobbed, chest heaving, "Thank you, Ren-nii. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

There was a familiar gut wrenching pull and Renato knew that he had not a minute left with his new found Sky. Agony was a new throb in his soul, the Sun could only run his un-gloved hand down the boy's back. "Skies do not apologize to the Guardians who want to save them. I'll wake all of you up, Kaneki Ken. I'm the strongest Sun, after all."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mistakes will be edited someday.


	4. Let the rain kiss you.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "... Let the rain beat upon your head with silver liquid drops. Let the rain sing you a lullaby." - Langston Hughes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the positive reviews on this thing; and of course for all the Kudos and bookmarks as well. Enjoy!
> 
> Edit: Timelines weren't matching up, but I've fixed it!

Daniela had been kicked out first, allowed an unforgettable glimpse at the ‘King’ Kaneki spoke of from behind the glass window. She thought he looked cruel and regal, head held up high in the way only powerful people could afford to.

With his cold grey eyes swimming in swirls of crimson, the white of his eyes were bleeding black. Daniela couldn’t end the sense of foreboding that kept creeping up her calves into her lungs like bitter poison.

Her breath escaped her when he’d set his sights on her, the Vongola Ottavio had never felt so inexplicably _small_ before. The image itself had her flinching; and for the first time in an amazingly long time, Daniela grimaced as she became the handicapped prey hiding helplessly behind a bare bush while the predator prowled. Hungry.

“ **Leave**.” She heard him say, voice low and commanding. The King’s Sky was not a Homely one. Daniela understood the literal power of words the exact moment she was ejected from Anteiku, kicked out like some old raccoon found rummaging through someone’s trash for scraps.

When Daniela fixed herself back into her own skin, she opened her eyes to see her lovely, overprotective Guardians fidgeting like children before their first day at school. They stood behind a clear imaginary line, marked by the relatively large signboard that said ‘No entry beyond this point.’

The normalcy of such a view made Daniela want to choke out some blood from her set of old lungs beaten with time. Not an hour ago, she felt 13 again; small and afraid in the world ravaged by war. The mantle of the Mafia’s largest Famiglia sitting on her shoulders- too large and too tight at the same time. A legacy of war passed down from the generations before her.

She’d been without any guardians save her Storm, and everything felt as if it could and would eat her alive if she didn’t grow up quickly enough.

The Vongola head groaned, her Guardians taking that as a sign to approach her. They started mothering the lady hitting her mid-fifties and it made Daniela laugh.

“We return home.” Daniela then huffed, hoisted up by her Rain. “My Storm, if you would please hitch an appointment with the Giglio Nero Famiglia for me please?”

The man nodded, numbly registering the order. His Bonds were humming; somehow, he just knew that his Sky had been afraid of something. _But of what?_ The man wanted to know.

* * *

_(Present, 3 weeks since Renato met Kaneki)_

Colonello _had_ heard of their newest resident in Mafialand, but he’d never truly seen it. The Rain was in charge of training new recruits, so being a meddling squirrel had been in the least of his interests.

Plus, like any self-respecting Rain, Colonello had been too busy occupying himself with his obsession in predatory birds and guns after work hours anyway.

Meeting the dubbed sleeping king had been none of Colonello’s business until he heard news of his rival Renato awakening from his coma lasting over fortnight.

(An unexplained, illogical coma ever since its time of diagnosis that hasn’t changed at all despite the doctor’s efforts. From what Colonello had found out, it was as if the very essence of what made Renato Sinclair evaporated without a plausible explanation.

Figures. Renato had been as selfish as usual to have left an empty shell for them to pick up after.)

* * *

_(A week before Renato’s bonding, two weeks after the induced coma)_

The sound of Colonello’s combat boots were silent even as he ran down the corridor leading into the hospital wing, training evident even in worry. He’d only heard the news not too long ago and it made him want to shoot something.

Why on earth would that maggot stupidly follow Vongola into a room warned off visitors for a reason?!

He admitted that he laughed when a colleague told him how the rumoured Greatest Hitman fell forward into unconsciousness like everybody else, but it shouldn’t have resulted to this. Or have lasted as long as it did.

They were raised like brothers, no matter how much Colonello denied being anything else than rivals that hated each other; going so far as to shooting each other on sight. It made his gut clench, but the man was still a comrade; even if Colonello disapproved of Renato’s bed partners who were already married half the time.

Colonello slammed the door open after chasing a nurse for the maggot’s room number. The door shot open with a resounding bang, but the trainer couldn’t bring himself to care about feeling embarrassed or considerate for the others that were admitted here. Racked with tubes, the maggot was even sleeping with his eyes closed!  

“What the fuck is going on here, kora?!” the blond glared.

“Calm yourself, sergeant.” Daniela, who sat by Renato’s bedside, firmly said. Her attention wasn’t on him however, instead, he noticed that the lady’s eyes never left the skinny hand she was holding with uncharacteristic gentleness.

“I came as soon as I heard,” She continued with a slight drawl in her words. “The child wouldn’t normally keep anyone for this long.”

“The maggot trained with me. He’s not supposed to wilt like some fucking plant even if he was put in a coma for more than a month. His Sun is too strong for that.” Colonello growled. “It’s only been 2 weeks, tops. What did you do to him, Vongola?”

Daniela narrowed her gaze, turning her head to face the blond man. “I did nothing.” She returned with equal bite. “Now are you going to be a true Rain and calm down this instant or start accusing anyone who breathes like some newbie grunt?”

Colonello touched the handle of his rifle, the soothing chill of its metallic weight grounding him. He clicked his tongue, took off his army patterned headband, and sat down on the chair next to Daniela. Its weight creaking beneath him.

“I’m listed as his next of kin, kora.” He tells her.

The lady smiled, “I know.” And it made Colonello want to dig a hole and shoot at least 2 platoons of trainees from it. He really _did_ _not appreciate_ the way she said those words.

Settling for reading Renato’s clipboard instead because he couldn’t exactly maim the current head of Vongola, Colonello’s eyes shimmered with navy blue wisps when he saw the remarks. “The maggot’s practically an empty husk.” He said with something in his voice.

Disbelief.

* * *

_(Present)_

Arriving once more to Room 27, Colonello’s main focus wasn’t the dreary walls riddled with meaningless frames of scenery. His eyes wouldn’t leave his stupid- _utterly ridiculous_ \- maggot rival’s body.

“That’s what you get for disobeying instructions, maggot.” He said with two-thirds spite and one-third hidden concern. “They put up TWO more signboards because of you. Vongola’s VIP pass be damned, kora.”

Renato scoffed, waving a hand as he reached for the gun on his bedside drawer like the paranoid bastard he was. The sight of his deteriorated self didn’t seem to faze him, but then again, not much did either. “I don’t need you mothering me, Colonello. I can handle myself perfectly fine.”

“Whatever you say, kora. You’re practically a beanpole now.” The blond rolled his eyes. A bullet bounced off his head and it made Colonello smirk.  Reborn clicked his tongue while Colonello chuckled, making sure his smugness showed. 

On bed rest, the hitman didn’t think his state felt as funny. Why should he? The Renato Sinclair as of now was a pitiful, pathetic, withered looking thing.

With spider web veins practically popping out, the man was almost all skin and bones. Renato grimaced and the expression looked gaunt on his hollowed cheeks. His body wasn’t unsalvageable, but it wouldn’t be easy regaining his old state.

Turning to Colonello, Renato shot another rubber bullet. The Mafia Land employee appeared to be in a land all on his own. “Hey.” He said, voice raspy. “I need you to do something for me.”

“Your tone says otherwise, kora.” Colonello rolled his eyes. _Pushy son of a gun_ , he silently thought to himself. “What do you need?”

“Your contacts. I’ve gotten myself a Sky, Colonello, and I need to wake him up.”

In the middle of polishing his gun, the Rain dropped it. The contact it made with the concrete floor was loud, but Colonello was louder. “WHAT?!” He exclaimed. “When did that happen, kora?!”

“A few hours ago.” Renato replied, his tone sarcastic. As if it was Colonello’s fault he was that dumb to be unable to conduct such basic observation.

Navy blue flashed past the sergeant’s bright eyes. The army dressed man took a deep breath, and ignored the slight twitch in his fingers that itched to shoot his old comrade. “The sleeping king.” He stated, quite sure.

Renato nodded, sarcastic expression unfazed. “Before I’m discharged, you’re going to get me the necessary paperwork to legally sign over his body to me. Mafialand will continue to take care of my Sky, however, as I’ll have places to be in before I heal my Sky.”

“You’re leaving?” Colonello asked, frowning.

Voice steady, “Indeed. I have information and questions for some of my brokers off the grid and taking care of a body on the way will only be detrimental to my mission.” Renato actually looked slightly dismayed at the fact; as if he hated the fact he only had one body. Then, he added, as though an afterthought. “I’ll still see my Sky one more time before I leave though, so give your superiors a notice on that as well.”

Already at the door, Colonello sighed. “Crazy bastard.” He murmured, knowing the Sun heard it anyway.

“But fine, kora. I’ll what I can do. It shouldn’t be too hard considering you’ve already Bonded. You aren’t allowed out of bed though, kora. So stay in there and look pretty. I’m going to call Lal; she has more say in things like these than me.”

Reaching for the glass of water beside him, Renato stifled a yawn. “You have my trust, old friend.”

Colonello shook his head, cocked his gun and shot Renato in between his blanketed feet; later clicking his tongue when he didn’t even get a micro-expression of a flinch. “Congrats, kora.” The Rain finally said- surprisingly genuine- and turned to exit the newly Bonded man’s room. Renato smiled in thanks- a sharp thing shy of any beauty.

Settled comfortably within the bed, his mind then drifted off; thinking about checker floors and being hurt instead of hurting. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi hi! I hope y'all have been enjoying this so far. The newest chapter is shorter than usual but that's becuase I'm starting to have a kind of format in my head? So, around 2-3 chapters per Arcobaleno when it comes to meeting with Kaneki in their own special way and in between those are transition chapters.  
> 


	5. Childhood should be carefree,

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “... playing in the sun; not living a nightmare in the darkness of the soul.”  
> ― Dave Pelzer, A Child Called "It"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Subtle application of unintentional child neglect.  
> Enjoy the early? (well, technically, there isn't a set schedule but... *shrugs*) chapter. I wrote during my trip to China and it was a tour; rest in peace what little sleep I had in to start with and hello more world building and Kaneki(s) interaction-- aren't you excited??
> 
> Edit (14/01/19): This chapter has been heavily edited. But the main 'plot' hasn't changed. It simply reads better this way uwu.

They were surrounded by solid plaster white on both sides. Pale yellow patches stained some of the areas, smudged in dirty artistry crawling upwards from the bottom of the paper thin walls; water seeped through some nights and it showed with the way the corridor would feel a degree colder when morning arrived.

Ken hated those nights when he’d have to wait obediently at the steps of the door at their apartment, thick and slightly scratchy blanket wrapped around his skinny frame. Mother was always late- that wasn’t new-  but the cold was a unique kind of magic that made time move slower.

Numb fingers dug their way towards the comforting warmth that laid underneath his shirt, Ken would sniffle when his skin met the piercing chill. The broken heater whirled with haggard coughs, the child could only distract himself by counting the constant drops of water falling from the rusting faucet.

Death may have had been a foreign concept to his young mind, but one day he’d wonder if this is how he would die. Cold, alone, and with nothing but the sounds and sight of a breaking home.

She would be late once more as he’d be left waiting for yet another winter night. Curled up by the mouth of the corridor that hung picture frames with blurred faces behind their fragile glass. Everything but him and the figure beside him were scratched out, inky black staining the once warm colors. And If anyone asked, the child would’ve also admitted to being forgetful of why and when he’d done so.

Ken felt, rather than smelled, the crisp cold air going into his lungs as his nose started to numb. “1 o’clock,” he’d start to count down every night without fail. When it was 15 minutes past the designated time, he’d only add 45 minutes more. “2 o’clock.” Ken then whispered longingly, only to repeat the never ending cycle.

The memories played in their respective territories weren’t always pleasant experiences. Especially since in young Ken’s case, the boy had to relive certain memories every time he returned back to their old apartment back in Area []. Black Reaper was still in the middle of making sense of their purpose here, but with every hour he’s had to stand behind Ken and watch him count, the Ghoul had the feeling he was coming close to something.

The Ghoul resisted the urge to crack a knuckle when Ken started getting to 5 o’clock. The late nights that stretched painful lessons when it came to patience possessed one of the more troublesome Rules to get past. It was equal parts intriguing and bittersweet, how every territory had a Condition and Rule when it came to their respective residents.

Whenever he returned to his default place of residence, Ken was cursed to live through particularly impactful memories from childhood that reached out until the day he moved out of his aunt’s apartment. Therefore, when it came to the Condition in activating his entrapment in a time that would never be, it’d be his return to their old home before their mother’s death. As for Rule, it varied from memory to memory.

In this case, Black Reaper would be stuck hovering over the younger boy like some mother hen shadow until the boy finally got to whispering “5 o’clock.”. Only then would the man be allowed to reach out to shake Ken awake in order to whisk him away similarly to the run of the mill prince in fairy tales.

It was a different scenario with every territory and personality. Black Reaper theorized that even their existences only came to be whenever a certain major turning point occurred in Kaneki’s Ken life. As for the theory behind their territories, everyone had later been stuffed in the place (by cause or coincidence) where the major event occurred.

With a clinical distance, Black Reaper might as well have found their situation interesting just because. Or so it should’ve been, if it weren’t so agonizing to watch Ken count down the hours from noon with a trembling frame.

“Ken.” Murmured the Reaper when his younger brother finally reached the quota upon his waiting hours in a trancelike state. Ken jerked, his hair fluttering to cover his eyes when he turned to see the Ghoul Investigator. The boy looked more tired than Reaper liked, with empty eyes and cold sweat practically dripping from every pore of his skin.

It took little effort as he barely weighed anything, Reaper hoisted the boy up into his arms. Without a doubt, the hunger was taking its toll.

Not unlike a touch-starved pup, the boy buried his face into the warmth of Reaper’s coat. He breathed in, immensely grateful and desperate for the company. Loneliness hurt, as did living through a memory that would never change no matter how many times he relived it. “Thank you, nii-sama. For always being with me after… _all that_.” Ken hugged Reaper tighter.

Taking the pat on his head with relish, Ken’s pleasured expression stilled when his nii-sama calmly spoke about their Sun. “It’s fine,” Reaper had soothed, “Just wait a bit longer, Ken. Our Sun will wake us up to feed soon.”

The line instantly brought up many unwanted (unfair, selfish) images in Ken’s mind; because even though he’d only known the hitman for a short while, Ken couldn’t help but grow attached to Renato. _Mine, mine, mine_ , something in him- **them** , seemed to scream with unrivaled passion. Even though it was _wrong_ because Renato didn’t deserve to be hurt no matter the reason.

Curling up into his brother’s arms, Ken quietly thought that it would’ve been better to just starve instead of dragging along such a beautiful Sun into this mess. They didn’t deserve the light, Ken wanted to cry. Reaper believed otherwise, naivety had no home in his heart.

//

“You could’ve been more gentle, my king. Daniela-san is a friend.” Said Kaneki gently, a soft light behind his kind grey eyes as he joined King by one the window-side tables in Anteiku. The dark haired counterpart’s concern may have not been embarrassingly obvious, but the fact Kaneki even mentioned the Vongola’s exit told King that the just-ghoul would probably be replacing the sugar with salt in his coffee for at least a week afterwards.

Not like King minded though, his best friend _( **Dead**. Killed by his own hand. He wasn’t a King at all if everyone just kept **dying** \- if he couldn’t protect the ones that meant everything) _and he had pulled worst on each other for lesser things.

Either way, it was amusing to see Kaneki huff sulkily when King channeled a Centipede in response and grunted purposefully, failing to meet Kaneki’s exasperated look. Tension subtle, but thick, both their gazes eventually faced out towards the sea.

The wide expanse of space calmed down significantly once King managed to convince Centipede to return back to Shiro’s field. Returning the chair with kind apologies and everything.

The Conclusion of Kaneki Ken’s story closed his mismatched eyes with a wistful breath, looking more resigned than upset. They didn’t look like it, but Reaper and Ken could truss up more trouble than Shiro and Centipede when they weren’t even trying.

The Beginning smiled at his End, thoughts in sync like every other of their housemates with each their own partners. Some just clicked well more than the other.

There was him- softly understanding Kaneki, who knew more than he understood, paired alongside the burdened and weary King.

The ever so wildly instinctive creature known as Centipede, ever so protective over the deceptively calm and cruel Shiro.

Innocent Ken who adored the calculatedly dangerous Black Reaper.

Last but not least, broken 240 stuck in Cochlea, shredded by corruption personified. The test subject aligned best with the kind and caring Haise Sasaki, equally reborn as he was remade, who longed for a decent parental figure in his life.

These were the parts that made up ( _breaking, broken_ ) Kaneki Ken. It was truly quite the crowd in there, Kaneki clicked his tongue. Perhaps an invitation for a civil coffee meeting would help ease the tension? Chimed the eye-patched waiter excitedly to himself.

King smiled on approvingly, heart pleased and expression tranquil. Yes. A little party among these dreary days would help. The gesture normally smoothened out any bumps in their relationships anyway. Plus, the imaginary coffee also helped ease the pangs of hunger that kept some of them awake at night.

Especially after the stunt Reaper and Ken pulled the other day, Kaneki was looking forward to it already.

Then there was—

 ** _Renato_** **_Sinclair._** _Their Sun, their Bonded._

_Instinctively, when the Bond has clicked into place, the entities that made up Kaneki Ken trembled. For a split second, they were reminded how it felt like to want to give someone the world._

_But neither Centipede, Shiro, 240, Haise or even King knew the hitman personally. Sure, they saw the memories, working a lot like a unique variant of a hive mind, but that was it. The man was only here for an impossibly short time and it wasn’t enough. They’d come to one day, perhaps. But for now, the Sky save three chalked it off and resumed their own businesses with a new ache in their chests._

(They’d give Renato the world if he asked; devouring everything in their path.)

Bonding with a Sun would also be an interesting topic to touch upon; Centipede and 240 might not have questions, but the others would. Kaneki started piecing together a mental diagram about what they were to talk about.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If there are mistakes I'll come back soon enough to fix them. Leave a Kudos and comment if you liked it.


	6. The important thing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "... is that men should have a purpose in life. It should be something useful, something good." - Dalai Lama

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, everyone has issues.
> 
> Happy reading! Leave a Kudos and comment on your way out if you did! :))

People started saying that the World’s Greatest Hitman started fussing up a storm in the Mafia like a man possessed.

Colonello couldn’t give a shit even if he tried. No matter what Lal Mirch said, he was not worried for the arrogant prick. Not to mention, he had better things to do anyway. Such as paperwork, paperwork and _oh!_ Wouldn’t someone take a good look at his desk, _more_ paperwork!

The Rain wasn’t ignorant by any means, but had there really been this many procedures when it came to adopting out a Sky he’s yet to even hear or see in real life? Not even the calming bird sound recordings he played helped with the intense migraine Colonello could practically taste shooting up from his gut.

He was also really hungry, by the way. Not like there was anyone to hear his silent complaint, but the idea of food felt real nice. Colonello clenched his teeth hard, grinding his row of molars till they ached.

No biggie, he’d push through; _as usual_ when it came to most things in his life. Colonello’s past 20 something years of life experiences didn’t raise no pussy-ass bitch.

He’s trained armies, what were _sheets of biodegradable- fuck! -_ compared to that? The blond mentally spat. Nearing dawn, Colonello looked up at the blank ceiling with transparent tears rolling down his cheeks as coffee practically ate at one of the longest reports he’s ever had to write.

God wasn’t real.

Sorely tempted to smash the phone when it started to trill eagerly, Colonello let out a long groan when he saw the caller. “Renato, kora.” He answers with as much deadpan he could muster, perhaps with a heavy dose of bitterness in his words as well.

A deep, velvet laugh is what he’s greeted with on the other end of the line. “Bakanello. How is it with my Sky?”

“Colonello’s doing fantastic, thank you.” The blond bit out. He wanted to feed Renato to the birds, later tacking a quick mental note to train a bird of prey (his own!) to do just that. “Kaneki Ken is doing fine. Still asleep _and_ _while I slave away without any_ ,” He muttered the last part, “The paperwork’s almost done. He’ll be signed under your name soon, but kept in Mafialand as you’ve begged, kora.”

“I don’t beg, Bakanello” Renato clicked his tongue. Colonello hoped the maggot could hear his blue eyes rolling at the back of his skull because it was certainly loud.

Silence buzzed through the line for a while before Colonello heard something akin to a body falling off the bed with a loud ‘thump!’

“Fuck--” The Sun cursed lowly. Colonello cackled. “You should visit him personally.” Renato suddenly said, the line taking the breath out of his lungs like a platoon of soldiers personally ran into him.

The clink of knocked glass is heard. It sounded like ice in whiskey, probably. “Ken gets lonely easily.” The dark eyed man explained, Colonello might’ve been imagining it, but he thinks that Renato sounded sad. “I can feel it through our Bond sometimes. It’s weak, but there all the same.”

“Doesn’t the Vongola Donna visit the body?”

“She does,” _but,_ came the inevitable insert.

Colonello imagined Renato nodding with a stoic face. The one he normally used before relaying bad news. Like a failed mission- rarely ever, but impossible to not have in their line of work. “But duty calls, Daniela can’t be at Mafialand forever.”

Feeling like some _whipped_ _bitch_ , Colonello relented. Damn the guy and his own weak heart. Renato could bat eyes at him he’d probably train **children** for war. “Fine, kora. I’ll visit your (lonely, how?) Sky. The way you’re talking about him makes it seem like the maggot’s 7 or something.”

“You’d be surprised.” Renato chuckled. And the line went off with an audible ‘ _click!’._

* * *

 

It shouldn’t, in all honesty, but till this day, seeing Haise enter through Anteiku’s front door baffled Kaneki every single time. Supposedly, nothing existed beyond those doors, it wasn’t even meant to open in the first place. The seas and temple in which King reigned over outside was only a well done illusion. Essentially, they were (dimensionally) _divided_ , in every sense of the word.

“Sorry, sorry.” The Dove ducked his head bashfully. With one hand on the door knob, every personification of Kaneki Ken’s personality braced themselves. “I should’ve _handled_ my time better but…”

Only 240 appeared to find some form of twisted glee at the pun. On the other hand, “I’ll eat you.” Shiro threatened, albeit weakly. Centipede (gruffly? Kaneki didn’t even know) chirped his support. Reaper, who sat in between Centipede and Ken, looked comically stunned, like he _still_ couldn’t believe that Haise was technically _him_ , once upon a time.

Ken tugged at Reaper’s coat, confused. The man hadn’t blinked for a while, wasn’t his eyes hurting? And his Reaper nii-sama wore glasses already, on top of that. Ken felt very concerned. “Nii-sama.” He whispered, eyes wide. “Are you okay?”

Kaneki suppressed a giggle. He loved the coffee parties they held.

“Children.” King started, an edge of amusement in his voice. Ken visibly perked up, all cheerful smiles and a laugh of agreement like chiming bells. Kaneki wanted to bundle up the child and stash him away in a place where nobody could hurt the absolutely precious boy. Funnily enough, he could see how the ever stoic Reaper agreed, if the way the Ghoul CCG Dove wouldn’t stop staring at Ken as if he hung the stars hadn’t already indicated something of the sort.

The screech of the chair was loud enough to make 240 flinch. Haise apologized again- without pun this time- and poured himself a cup of coffee from the pot in the middle of the table. “So what’s up?” The white-tipped hair man asked before moaning into the first chug.

“Hungry. Food. Devour.” Grunted Centipede.

“Whatever he said.” Shiro crossed his arms, thumb pointing over to his counterpart.

“Ken, I don’t think you’ll like your coffee black. Here, let me pour in some milk for you.” Came the unhelpful response from Reaper. Currently fussing over the younger boy who wanted his own cup of coffee. “Thank you, Nii-sama!” grinned the boy brightly.

Kaneki himself scratched his cheek shyly. “Well… about that…”

Haise gasped. The sharp inhale of wind so sharp it could cut, and for a moment, there was silence. “Wait. Are you guys, like, seriously pro _caffeinating_ on our meals now?!”

King sighed, he’s been doing that a lot lately.

240 didn’t say anything at all, book busy in his hands. He was used to the hunger, and found more satisfaction eating words than humans.

* * *

 

On his bed, Colonello polished the nozzle of his gun; seeing it shine gave him a kind of happiness shooting couldn’t ever replicate. He was in his room, having abandoned the stack of paperwork on his desk that was arranged to press against the wall.

The Rain’s mind kept going over Renato’s veiled suggestion and his own agreement. He wasn’t against keeping a maggot brother’s Sky company against loneliness, but something ugly in him raised its scarred head.

He imagined broken wings and drenched feathers. He wanted a Sky too.

But it would be too much to ask, because what if the sleeping king rejected him? Colonello barked out an ugly laugh. Funny to think that it even mattered, he was acting like some dog that craved a leash. The military should’ve sufficed, they had him in chains and a spiked collar. But why couldn’t the siren’s lull of belonging into a Sky _go away?_

So far, he’s done an amazing job in keeping his obsessive Rain tendencies at bay. He’s folded it like origami paper, and the result came in paper guns and paper cranes. Vongola damned him if they found the darkness in him who’d die in a heartbeat in the name of loyalty.

Mafia folk normally took and took and took. Colonello wanted to give, he was a provider and giver. He wanted to serve, and Lal Mirch’s done great by keeping him wanting with firm orders and a firmer hand. It wasn’t enough.

He needed more, more, more.

_Use me. Before I **drown-**_


	7. Some nights are made for torture,

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “... or reflection, or the savoring of loneliness.”  
> ― Poppy Z.Brite

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This work is not dead yet. 
> 
> As always, leave a Kudos and comment if you enjoyed it!

On a night where the moonlight shined as full as can be, that was the hour Colonello threw all hints of hesitance into the wind and headed towards the room where Renato’s Sky slept.

The decision in itself was carefully made, all things considered. There was a reason why it had to be on the full moon. It was Mafia folklore really, because they had those too.

Rumour had it that like how creatures of the sea worshipped the moon, Flames that drew their power from crying skies did too.

Research had actually been conducted to find out if the myth was true, but results came out negative. Obviously, considering that the ones to know first would’ve been the Rain themselves and they felt nothing.

But whether it was true or false didn’t matter at this point. For Colonello, he was going to need as much strength as he could get. There were no plans in his book that read a schedule for physiotherapy. Although the moon thing might as well just be moral support at this point.

It was a new low, honestly. He hadn’t told anyone of his latest mission, the blond was going in blind with nothing on him save the trust he held in Renato’s word. To accompany a lonely Sky, was it?

Once he’d arrived at the suit fit for royalty, the sergeant paused. Hesitance itched in his bones as worry crept underneath his skin. This was a bad idea, the man grimaced. Going with the hidden intention and hope of finding a Sky of his own was plain crazy.

The Rain inched forward, as slow as can be, staring at nothing as the door closed behind him. At first, his attention went to the mask by Kaneki Ken’s bedside. It was an eerie thing with exposed teeth fixed into a literally zipped grin.

His Rain pulsed, circular ripples forming in the waters of his mind.

He was falling before he knew it; straight from Mafialand’s antique bedroom into darkness and into a cloudless sky. There was a familiar pull in his gut, the one people got when their bodies felt gravity’s hand pushing down on them.

Colonello’s Flames prevented him from thinking that he was going to die. Calm rational was always good, but it’d have Rains dying with their eyes wide open. Under normal circumstance, they’d still be considering the _next step_ regardless of the fruitlessness.

Undergoing just that, Colonello kept thinking. How do I lessen the impact? How do I keep myself alive? Y’know, a Rain’s idea of panic.

He hit the salty waters before the next ‘how’ could speed through his mind. Training automatically kicked in and Colonello wanted to shoot himself when he remembered that he was in a mindscape.

It didn’t matter if he fell onto land or water. He wouldn’t have died either way.

Stinging eyes were the least of his problems when the swimming Colonello gradually realised that there was no land to be seen. Nothing at all. Simply an open blanket of blue that lasted for miles.

He wasn’t feeling any more tired than he was before so the blond continued to kick his feet and exercise his arms into a breaststroke. Before long, he spotted something visibly solid, red, and tall.

It looked traditional, kind of like an Asian’s idea of a door. The standing things were upright and red, consistent in their heights. Colonello brightened. It was either the water shallowed around that area or- on a disheartening note- the gates had pillars that went down forever.

Either was fine as long as he could climb it and sit on the arch connecting two of the pillars together. Colonello swam like his life depended on it.

In his heart, the blond was cursing out complaints like a woman scorned. Where was the coffee shop? Where was the promised warmth? The maggot hitman must’ve been 5 feet high when he texted Colonello the night after their call.

Suddenly, a slimy and cold feeling was pulling on his ankles. The grip was tight and Colonello swore. “What the actual fuck?!” His Flames were out in a split second, working to slow down whichever creep thought it was a good idea to pull him under.

 _Not today_ , Colonello grinned with a feral touch. The blond willingly dunked his head underneath the water to get a better view on the sneaky bastard. Eyes closed momentarily, Colonello’s body twisted, legs ready to give a powerful kick in the face.

When cerulean eyes opened, the Rain’s mouth accidently opened with shock. He was choking on water before he knew it. Shit! He thought when he quickly swam forwards to climb the pillar like a squirrel.

It was like an actual horror story down there. The sight flashed before Colonello’s eyes once more. Bodies, bodies, more bodies. There appeared to be an infinite of mobile corpses in what he was sharing water with for a solid 15 minutes.

He was used to the sight of death, but swimming in _that_ was disgusting.

“Damn it, kora.”

And the scenery changed.

His eyes took in the new view. Well-polished counter tops, tables and chairs arranged like the cafés in Italy, a warm cup of coffee was steaming from the table he was arranged to.

“Sorry about that,” Someone said, making Colonello look up from the plain but elegant cup. Sincerity was reflected on the one grey eye Colonello could look into. This should be Kaneki Ken, he matched the descriptions.

This was Renato’s Sky.

“You were standing pretty far away, Rain-san. So I might’ve lost control when I pulled you in halfway through.” The waiter dressed male blushed, “Sorry, again. You weren’t supposed to see that.”

“The bodies?” Colonello tried to confirm. Kaneki nodded bashfully.

“I’d like to thank you. I know Ren put you up to this, you didn’t have to come, but we really appreciate it.”

“It’s fine, kora. I’m off duty tomorrow anyway.”

Kaneki smiled, a grateful look on his softening expression. The Ghoul hummed, “That’s great to hear. But I’m afraid you can’t stay here though. There are others waiting for you. I’ll see you soon, my Rain.”

//

He was sent off like online bought package delivery, Colonello recalled, cradling his spinning head. “Shit, kora.” He groaned, feeling dirt sticking on his shins and elbows. Looking around with confusion, the man found himself clutching on thorn-less roses in an endless field of nothing but.

The land of white was with breath-taking beauty. Colonello almost held his breath at the sight, head looking up to see a vast space of sky. A fleeting thought of bringing a bird here to fly passed.

It was when he heard the rattling chains when the idea whipped to smoke. The scent of _him_ hit Colonello before he could set his eyes on alert-search-for-danger mode. The air was tainted with the strong rusty tang of old blood.

Not far from him, Colonello was greeted with a head of messy white. It was the same hue as the roses that surrounded them.

The figure’s head was hanging downwards, body hunched forwards as though something was anchoring him from behind so that he wouldn’t fall. The knob of the stranger’s shoulders was pulled back. Colonello remembered the sound of chains and grew weary.

“I’m Colonello, kora. What’s yours? Where are we?”

The figure didn’t even twitch.

“Hey,” the blond tested. “ _Hey_.” He tried louder.

A pair of grey eyes snapped up to him. They were the same as Kaneki’s at the café. The chains tying a pair of ankles together rattled with a chink, Colonello had an inkling that similar ones tied the Kaneki twin’s hands behind the chair as well.

_“My name is…”_

Colonello jumped when the ground beneath his feet started to turn a scarlet red, forming a small halo that bloomed only where his feet stepped. A squelching sound reached his ears, like that of bloodied flesh twisting and turning, just waiting until bones snapped.

The flowers were crimson because they were changing. Frozen into one position, Colonello did nothing as he found blood moons in a sky of ink. He has pretty eyes, Colonello blankly thought from where he stood.

Shiro was his name. the blond burned the simple words into his memory. And apparently, he was also in Shiro’s part of the mindscape. Colonello was to be bound by his greatest torturer until all the white-washed roses turned into red-dyed spider lilies.

This was Shiro’s Rule and Condition: A Field of Reflection.

 

* * *

 

 **Extra** :

“The solution’s easier than you’d think, Kaneki, King. We get the Sun to hunt _for_ us, if you’re both so reluctant to feeding the traditional way.”

“And you think Renato would simply agree to feeding us _humans_? Shiro… they may be Mafia, but even this would be a new kind of low to offer their fellow men like feeder mice.”

“You think too much, _Kaneki_. It’s _because_ they’re Mafia that there’s bound to be bad men and women. Dead or alive. Make him shove an arm down our throat, Centipede can’t complain then; he’s been whining about the hunger for ages already.”

“I agree with Shiro.” Reaper hummed. “It’s not as if Renato would decline. I can tell that he adores young Ken here,” the Dove pushed a finger to the young boy’s cheek “-without a doubt. It’s better than rampaging about like monsters, anyway. What do you think, Haise?”

“It’s alright, I guess? Hunting, feeding off the dead, we’ve all _bean_ there, done that. Food-talks aren’t really my thing, but I do get what Reaper’s trying to say. By hook or crook, we can’t really afford to be picky. I trust everyone to be civil enough either way.”

“O-oh! I know! I know! Trouble’s _brewing_. Did I get that right, Haise-nii?”

“For the love of all things holy, stop teaching nonsense to the kid, insufferable swine.”

There was a laugh, loud and bright. A rustle of clothes, “Don’t be _bitter_. You did amazing, Ken-chan. You’re gonna be way better than me at this rate.”

“Thank you very much!”

 


	8. March on.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "... Do not tarry. To go forward is to move toward perfection. March on, and fear not the thorns, or the sharp stones on life's path." - Khalil Gibran

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Easter everyone!
> 
> Hope you enjoy! Leave a Kudos and comment if you did.

Kaneki stood beside his fair-haired look alike. “Your territory isn’t kind.” He said with wryly twisted lips.

“Our suffering was never kind,” The other replied blandly, long lashes lowering.

“Is that how you see this?” Kaneki inquired kindly, fingers snaking into knots. “We never got to talk about it, and we honestly should. Not just you, but all of us. This place, our _homes_ in this body- do you live in it and see suffering?”

“I’ve seen enough.” Shiro stated, and the two became quiet.

Not unkindly, they watched the rain that acted like the sun on his hands and knees, inverted rings of scarlet blooming from where skin touched earth. It appeared as though he was bleeding, if one saw only his hands.

In a way, the Rain was. Staked through the palms by his _beloved_ torturers by design.

Colonello wasn’t a man who found fear in pain. Consequently, his mental captors did not wear blank expressions meant for instilling unease, nor did they hold tools meant to torture.

The Rain gasped in the repetitive, but no less harmful simulation. It was unknown on the length of time he’d been here already. Days, months, hours; it was impossible for it to be less than a full 60 minutes.

Weakly, he kind of hoped his body was doing alright outside. If it wasn’t, would Renato come back to see him?

He’d honestly prefer the actual guy than the substantially fake, and nevertheless convincingly real one here. Masked with the same dark eyes and curly sideburns, the doppelganger Renato stood beside beautiful Lal Mirch.

Both of them kept asking and talking. They requested for things they did not need and for things that Colonello could not complete. He felt horrifyingly inadequate with every “No.” he was physically incapable of saying.

‘So eager to please, this one.’

 _(Failure. Failure. Failure_. _)_

“I can’t do this, Lal.” Colonello begged, standing in their Headquarters. He was bloodied and bruised black and blue, Rain Flames downtrodden with the exhaustion that stayed from the previous trip.

His conviction was flagging.

“You will.” She’d say, and Colonello would blank out momentarily with a “Yes, ma’am.”. He’d then be destined to fail at this endeavour and the next; he’d fail every single one and it was driving him crazy. Predictably, Renato would come up at this point, full of made up malice that Colonello just _knew_ came from his own insecurities.

The monkey-brained part of Colonello didn’t care. He felt each stab of harsh words unlike the banter they normally played up. “I said _I’m sorry,_ kora. Why won’t you take it?”

He was meant to wash away the troubles of his family and be of use to them. It was impossible to do that here. Everything was so obviously fake but hauntingly real at the same time.

It was so simple, this nightmare. As easy as a drawn circle with neither beginning nor end.

In the midst of it, Colonello's tired soul found time to idly wander. Just a minute, he told the simulation, letting Lal Mirch's harsh words wash over him like the harmless swish of bathwater in a tub. He wished to ask the cause of all of this- _what do you fear?_ Just how did Shiro stand to be here all day?

The Rain in him wanted to help.

* * *

 

The weather in Shiro’s territory changed according to real time. If he wished, the ghoul could control how the light filled out over the field of roses, but he normally let time do its thing.

The place also had rain and snow. Shiro hated the former on some days; the latter had his full hatred. The falling fine and detailed ice reminded him of a time he’d rather forget and never did for the memory was unexplainably precious. 

When Colonello arrived, it’d been purposefully made bright. It wasn’t like him, but Shiro wanted to make a good impression. Let the man know that his Sky was beautiful despite its suffering.

Shiro knew he’d never be as kind as Kaneki was; he’d discarded too much of that goodness to ever regain it back. Nevertheless, damn him if he didn’t at least try to show the Rain how the pain could be a good thing. It would make him stronger, better.

He’d been shattered over and over again, only to be remade into something powerful. Colonello would emerge stronger than ever; never would his Rain have to possess the fear of failure or the rust of disuse.

“It’s morning,” Kaneki easily said, hands crossed in his front that made him look like he was ready to bow. Shiro grunted, _so what?_

“Mafialand employees have taken him. This won’t be like Renato’s case, I hear. He needs to be close by.”

“I know nothing of what happens outside. The problem’s yours.”

“Ugh.” Came the troubled groan. “You can’t just say it like that, Shiro!”

The white-haired ghoul simply smirked, chains rattling when he shifted a bit. Although in all seriousness, it was a bad situation to be stuck in. Colonello needed to be nearby for this to work.

He gave Kaneki a look. One that made the other feel really bad, like he wasn’t working hard enough, hadn’t tipped the poor overworked waiters and waitresses enough. It was a precarious position to be in, Kaneki let out a designated breath.

It was like having to solo his college group work all over again. “I can force us to wake up so you’ll be the one to go get Colonello-san back from the infirmary.”

“Are you implying that we could’ve woken up _any time_ since we came here?” Shiro cocked his head innocently, a subtle twitch at the corner of his eye. It would’ve been convincing facade, if it weren’t for the obviously starving beast lurking behind the calm exterior.

“It’s only for 8 minutes.” Kaneki shrugged nervously. “Don’t get your hopes up for nothing. Afterwards, the hunger pangs are gonna get worst.”

“8 minutes is more than enough time to kill a man.”

“Enough to get us in trouble too. His highness wouldn’t approve.”

“He does with very little. Burdened with guilt as he is, it’s like we take one step forward and two steps back every time another one of us is made.” Shiro complained, easily breaking out of his chains.

The chair underneath him creaked. The binds of metal made no noise when they fell on to the soft, flowering earth.

“He exists to protect us, them, _our kind_ \- after all that’s happened. You’re not gonna blame him for it, are you?” Kaneki frowned, protective of his closest counterpart. Shiro wondered how the naivety had not died yet, when they of all people should’ve understood.

“The King is a product of our failures.” Shiro spat harshly. “We know our stories, and he failed his. That _thing_ is still sleeping down there, isn’t it? Remember the story that the historians would’ve written us by; the life of Kaneki Ken was _nothing_ but a tragedy.”

Back hunched, Kaneki squatted while facing the young man opposite him. “Touka-chan and Hinami-chan would’ve been sad if they knew it was all you thought about it.” he glumly said, barely a whisper.

Kaneki plucked at the white roses, twisting at their stems between his fingers. Calculatedly, he ignored the quiet snarl that graced Shiro’s lips. “Set me up, we wake in 3.”

The countdown started once Kaneki felt his Sky Flames expand to accommodate the new pilot. His job was to stand-by and let the starving beast loose now. His Highness was going to be a little more than just pissed.

Reading in a throne placed on black and white floors, Reaper’s head perked. Young Ken gave sounds of awe, and Haise smiled; Centipede cackled as 240 paused where he ran his fingers bloody whilst scratching the cell walls. The King started counting back in sevens.

Shiro’s knuckles popped.

 **7 minutes 59 seconds** , the one-eyed ghoul better not cause too much trouble outside.


	9. I enter the world

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "... called real as one enters a mist." - Julien Green

【7 minutes 56 seconds】

Instinct drove him.

Shiro could hear it – the run of blood through pulsing veins, the steady bounce of beating hearts.

He could taste it – an inhale of tainted air into meaty lungs, perhaps sponged with the black of tobacco. _Whatever_ , came the idle thought. Food was food.

 _Meat, meat, meat._ Centipede chanted, the personality feeling as close to home for past months. Now, it fleeted too far up into the surface of Shiro’s mind. _Hungry. Devour. Blood. Flesh. Rain._

“Hush,” Shiro sighed out loud. He half meant it, fingers growing cold with anticipation. Behind him, the slick sound of his Rinkaku swam beneath the thin skin of his back. The Ghoul craved to feel food in his stomach again. Saliva piling in his mouth, they were so close and so far all at once.

Like the rise of an empire before its fall, his hunger wouldn’t stop building; the gnaw in his stomach even less so. Shiro placed a hand to his stomach and _pictured._ Simultaneously pushing down the pitifully short temper of Centipede, a short grimaced surfaced. His insides were ravenous, a slave to its desires.

Their - for what were they, if not multiple individuals _imprisoned_ into one - already lean body was devouring whatever it could find, belonging organ or no, it didn’t matter. The starved system dug their bites, savouring every nutrient sapped back into the bloodstream.

Even through the ache, Shiro would only stroll through the poorly lit corridors, unmindful of the unnecessary number of surveillance cameras shooting his way. Alarms blared and the echoing thump of security headed his way drowned out the rumble of his stomach.

Food was delivering itself to his doorstep and Shiro hadn’t bothered to resist a smile.

“Hold!” Someone cried, voice deep with authority. Balls of multi-coloured flames were dancing on every man and woman’s palms. They’d arrived in a group arranged by colour. A mix of red and green at the front backed up by yellows and shades of purple. Their bravery faltered briefly from the indifference of Shiro’s actions; the Ghoul had simply huffed when he saw them, palming the stiffness in his neck.

The stretched silhouette on the corridor walls disappeared. Following him, at least two of their comrades had an arm stolen.

It was nearly impossible to catch the figure who’d gracefully taken off with an arm in his mouth, and one in his right hand respectively. “I need Team Ranger and Freya after him. Get me some medics immediately!” The group’s leader bellowed, composure present despite the budding disaster clusterfuck that came in the form of one white-haired bastard and two literally unarmed men.

A river of blood followed behind Shiro, leaving a trail like Gretel’s breadcrumbs. Edible, certainly. Though not for the little birds he left behind. Centipede gurgled with indescribable bliss as even the King couldn’t stop the traitorous blurt of _Itadakimasu_ escape him. It had been too long.

 

【5 minutes 50 seconds】

“Who’s idea was this again?” chirruped Haise, looking a tad bit too… _blissed out_ for Kaneki’s taste. Worriedly, he suspected dopamine due to recent events and _was that even how the science worked?_

Evidently, the investigator had come through Anteiku’s impossible door (again) barely a second after the first taste of blood.

Kaneki hadn’t even noticed, either too immersed in the rush of happy chemicals or defeated by Haise’s unsurprising boost at stealth. Food did things, power ups were one of them. ‘Keeping us alive?’ King’s thought interrupted, ‘Debatable.’

The eye-patched Ghoul humoured his housemate anyway, bitterly smiling into a cup of freshly brewed coffee.

“Your point?” Kaneki said, in which Haise replied with a celebrative sound. “Because _meat_ , Kaneki-san. Food! And nobody’s died yet, isn’t that a win-win situation for everyone?”

“I never took you to be one for bloodthirst, Haise.” Added Reaper who’d appeared from nowhere, disappointingly empty of Ken by his side. The poor kid was probably stuck in his territory’s sadistic rule again. “I admit, it’s a pleasant surprise.”

“I like having a set of morals,” the investigator laughed sheepishly, almost shy. “But I’m not stupid, Reaper. Our body’s starving- _I’m_ starving and it wouldn’t have done anyone here any favours to travel all the way to a mortuary nobody knows the way to. Especially considering the time limit. 8 minutes is just sad.” He looked at Kaneki at that, rubbing the back of his head nervously.

Haise internally winced when the older investigator took a step forward. Reaper’s gaze was just that unnerving. Until today, the bi-colour haired man was still awed to believe that it’d been him to become _that_. “I think I miss little Ken. He said he’d tell me some puns when we talked again.” Haise spoke to himself in escape, eyes darting to the door.

“As do I,” Reaper nodded, strangely appreciative. If something close to happiness swelled in Haise’s chest at the approval, he didn’t let it show. Quite the opposite, a frown appeared on his face. _Hey, 240_ , he called mentally.

A hum answered him.

 _Join us, please? I’d_ really _appreciate some kind of back-up while dealing with the man I may be – highly likely be and with no idea why- seeing as a replacement parent figure. Which is kind of weird. Plus, screwed up? Because we’re technically still the same person and he’s also future-me._

Ever unsociable, his counterpart grunted an airy _later_ through their mental link. 240 was only halfway through the climax of this particular story, Haise could wait.

“Watch.” Ordered their King, pulling up a knee and resting his snowy head on it as he sat atop one of the tables. It was an honest to Kami coffee party 3.0, Haise concluded rather hysterically. Regardless, both his ‘internationally’ channelled sight and mind unfailingly snapped to attention at the order.

A Dove, a Reaper, and a King step into a bar one day. The bartender was a Ghoul pretending to be a human and the TV was switched on to a channel about human autonomy 101. The only thing missing was a bucket of popcorn (that they couldn’t eat literally).

Wait, there were eyeballs.

 

【3 minutes 47 seconds】

Shiro followed his Flames, pulling off tender strings of sopping muscles as he jogged past door after door. He couldn’t hear anyone following behind him, and the fact relieved him more than it should. Every whiff of human scent still made his stomach growl noisily, though. _He’ll find one more to eat on the way back._ Eventually, the ghoul arrived at something akin to the hospital wing in the great castle.

“It’s locked,” Shiro growled. More to the others than himself.

He heard his eye squelch, colour warping into an ominous shade of scarlet. Like a flower, his Rinkaku bloomed into four petals of pulsing veins of deep crimson. One tail pierced through the door, getting a hold of it; whereas the other slammed into the thing, somehow managing to detached the entire door by its hinges with minimal damage.

Colonello wasn’t as skinny as Renato during his sleep, but some weight had obviously been lost. Shiro carefully ran his fingers over the rough blonde spikes. The Rain looked terribly peaceful, brows smoothened and lips slightly parted – soft snores escaping. It was an astonishing difference from the expression of suffering he held back in Shiro’s Territory.

He felt sorry, a bout of remorse churning foul cheese throughout his body. Yet Shiro’s learnt to be selfish in during his time, “Excuse me,” he murmured while scooping the body by the back of Colonello’s knees and lower back. Shit, this carry brought back too many unpleasant memories for anybody’s liking.

Shiro left without closing the door behind him, feeling the small protest by Haise in his head. Well it was too bad _he_ had to live with a bunch of hormonal teenagers who liked their privacy. Nobody ever complained when Ayato never shut doors on his way out due to pure spite back at base.

So no, I don’t care, Haise, shut the hell up.

 

【1 minute 43 seconds】

His little escapade was currently monitored. Through the corridors, angles unconfirmed.

_Mist Flames._

Subtle, but present nonetheless. Shiro probably would’ve probably had much more difficulty sensing them if it weren’t for the sheer resonance this body felt for it. Instinctively, he knew that his personality wasn’t fully compatible with the owner of these Flames, but someone _inside_ was. Besides, he had Colonello.

Footsteps nimble, Shiro took a quick sniff of the air. Nothing in particular caught his attention. He clicked his tongue, glaring forwards as a multitude of battle-warmed cries broke towards him at a breakneck speed. 

This mission would’ve been way easier their enemies were made up of the fanatics who fell easy to Kaneki’s Sky Charm when they first arrived. Shiro braced himself, taking a deep breath and lugging Colonello’s un-useful body over his shoulder like a sleeping bag.

“What a farce.”

Rinkaku flaring, someone yelled in pain as it stabbed through their thigh.

One swipe, four men were taken out. Their Flames crackling with green lightning dimming as they lost consciousness. Somebody flew when the attacker punched them in the face, cracking at least one-third of her collarbone when she became buried in rubble.

A particularly sharp whip broke through the centuries old wall of the ancient castle. A rather large statured man lost a limb when a blur of red cut cleanly through where his arm and shoulder met. The sound of the monster slurping up his blood like it was the finest dessert would haunt him forever.

“Drop a visit, Mist,” Everyone heard.

* * *

Viper jerked back into reality. Fingers trembling at the intensity of their attraction to the cannibalistic Sky. Or was he? If by that one scene alone, they’d already established him as a being that wasn’t of this world? Wasn’t human?

In possession of incredible memory and visual abilities, Viper noticed that the edges in which the arm was taken apart by was surgically clean though slightly unnatural as the socket wasn’t detached. Whatever the man’s weapon was, it cut straight through muscle and bone like it was nothing.

Perhaps their illusions needed a firm improvement after this task. They had the inspiration now.

The question, however… to go, or not to go? Monitoring from a distance was clearly the safest option. Yet Viper had felt it from the get-go – the intense need to Bond with this inhuman Sky.

Well, they were an information broker, right? Surely, a peep wouldn’t hurt and it’d be beneficial for business. Mafialand ought to be grateful they’re they’d owe a favour this way. Especially since Viper’s services were rarely ever cheap.

Not to forget, Renato better pay up very well once they were finished gaining intellect on this particular mystery. Because going on recon was one thing, owing another and getting into the depth of things was another. Viper had to do all three. They’ll be earning by the hundreds of thousands once they’re done.

 

【0 minutes 29 seconds】

Shiro gently placed Colonello’s body next to him on the king-sized bed.

He messily wrote a message on the wall in blood. Not too big and not too small, slipping under the covers and then to their mindscape soon enough. It was with atrocious handwriting from the rush however, he hoped people could read it properly.

For additional measure, the Ghoul also made sure to entangle their limbs together, knowing that nobody could untangle them due to his special constitution. Any kind of life support for Colonello will take place in this room and stay in this room. Kaneki had whispered on the way that waking for a few seconds to fix the position should be easy as they’d eaten nice and full.

 _My_ _Rain_. _No take_ – **Shiro**

 

【0 minutes 0 seconds】

“I’m home.” He called out.

“Welcome back.” Everyone greeted. Colonello included.

Shiro laughed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woah. It took for.e.ver to finish this up. Hope you enjoy! Don't forget to leave a Kudos and comment if you did!


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